


Happy Birthday, Phil

by littlesunflowerdarling



Category: Phan, Phandom
Genre: Awkward, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Phandom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:37:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesunflowerdarling/pseuds/littlesunflowerdarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Phil's birthday. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Phil

Fluffy pieces of snow bright against the gray sky fall past the closed kitchen window. Flakes collect in the bottom corner of the glass, cool wind whistling through the cracks in the window frame. On the kitchen counter-tops, plastic bottles filled with pancake batter drip beads of color. Batter fills tile cracks, pooling into each other.

On the stove-top, steam from the pan curls to the ceiling, the smell of butter and flour heavy in the air. Bubbles rise to the surface of the green ‘L’ shaped pancake, sizzling as Dan scrapes and flips it. After a little while of checking, he scrapes up the pancake, adding it to the large plate stacked high with other edible letters. He grabs a batter-sticky pencil, scratching out the last letter of ‘HAPPY 28TH BIRTHDAY PHIL’. Under the words is a small, printed photo of Phil’s small stuffed lion. Dan’s artistic skills may be a bit higher than those of Phil’s, but cooking art is not something he has ever done. Pouting at the image he outlines the mane and face with red and orange. Dotting in the eyes with blue, then outlines the nose with a mix of purple and blue. Working back through his outline, he fills in each with their colors. Waiting for the cake to cook is a little more than he can handle, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Finishing his somewhat lopsided lion takes a few more minutes, but he finishes. Well, almost finishes.

Dan uses one hand to grip the pan's handle, carrying it to place among the other dishes he needs to wash in the sink. Massaging his temple with the tips of his fingers another yawn escapes from his lips, his vision blurry. Yesterday, Dan spent the day with Phil playing video games and watching movies. For a while, he thought it was going to be impossible to keep Phil awake long enough to ensure there be time in the morning to make breakfast. Yet—despite his doubts—his plan went fine and came to a close when Phil stumbled to his bedroom at half past one in the morning. For the rest of night, Dan wrapped presents and made the food-colored pancake mix.

Water overflows from the pan into the sink. He is staring at the wall above the sink. The kitchen is still a mess. Phil will not be up for another hour, so Dan will start the coffee when he finishes. He relaxes into the chore of dishwashing, letting his mind wander as soap suds cover his hands.

-

Phil woke up around the time Dan predicted, wandering into their living room with his bed hair and colorful pajamas. The rest of the morning into the afternoon, they took pictures of the pancakes and presents. Watching more anime bundled up on the couch.

At four in the evening, the two of them start getting ready to go out for a bit of shopping before going to eat. Dan stands in front of his mirror, ruffling and fluffing up his fringe with the tips of his fingers, and tugging the hem of his shirt. Phil went down to shower and dress a while ago, all smiles and humming. The corner of his mouth twitches thinking about Phil humming "Immortals".

Watching Phil's eyes go wide opening up his presents and gushing over his pancakes made all the hours of work worth it. The genuine joy in the glow of his eyes, them crinkling with love. His shoulders shaking with laughter, each giggling bubbling up his ribs. Those little things brought back the happiness Dan experienced when they met for the first time. It is nice to know that some things never change, even after five years.

A light knock sounds on the outside of the door.

“Come in.” Pinching a strange of hair between his fingers he pulls it to be with its fellow strands.

“Hey, Dan, does this look okay?”

Color creeps up his neck to his cheeks looking over his shoulder. Doorknob in hand, Phil stands in the doorway. His hair is feathery from blow-drying it and his glasses perch on the bridge of his nose. Dan's eyes trail down to the black galaxy, button down paired with a burgundy cardigan, both gifts Dan gave him earlier. Phil looks even more adorable wearing it than Dan imagined when he found it online not long after Phil bought his "space" jacket. His heart beats fast against his rib cage, sound echoing up to his ears.

“You look amazing,” Phil rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Glasses or contacts?”

“Glasses,“ Dan glances at the time on his phone. His hand is shaking. “should I call the cab now?”

“Yeah.”

-  
Dan nods his head at the barrister, taking up both cups. Bags on his arm brush a passing shopper, he mumbles a quiet "sorry", awkwardly stepping around others who glare at him. Feet dragging on the sidewalk, he shuffles to the bench in front of the restaurant Phil went into to get them a table.

The bench is cool against his thighs, the air crisp and clear in his lungs.

"They say there is a waiting time of forty minutes," Phil says plopping down next to Dan. Taking his coffee Dan offers him, he rests a hand between them. "what do you want to do while we wait?"

"We can sit her for a little while."

The warm, yellow glow of the street lamps and shops illuminate the people walking by, bags in their hands. Shoulders brushing, Dan rests his hand besides Phil’s, avoiding eye contact. His shoe brushes against their plastic bags.

Sometimes he gets caught off guard by his thoughts and reactions to simple things that have to do with Phil. It has always been that way, even when he watched Phil’s videos for the first time. Shaky hands, laughs caught in his chest, and cheeky smiles were all causes of late nights staring at the ceiling. Sometimes, he would stay awake for hours daydreaming about him. Nothing raunchy or dirty, only sweet things. Wanting to see Phil’s eyes in the sun. Taking in each little movement and reaction. Words without revision before they send through text. Thoughts that are not cut out of a video. The real Phil that exists outside of the virtual reality that is the internet. They are all more than he ever imagined they would be.

“What are you thinking about?” Phil asks, bringing Dan out of his thoughts.

Dan glances at him, feeling a bit self-conscious at Phil’s unwavering gaze. If he opens his mouth he will not be able to stop himself from saying the truth. He resorts to a small shrug instead, squirming a bit in his seat, butt a bit numb from the cold.

“I want to say thank you for today,” Phil says. “it has been the best day, I mean it. From the bottom of my heart.” Phil hooks his pinky with Dan’s, his eyes smiling with amusement as Dan looks up at him through his lashes, cheeks pink.

Going full out on birthday breakfast for Phil felt too little of thanks to him for all the life he brought to Dan those years ago.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. What is a friend for?”

They smile at each other, eyes separating to look at opposite sides of the bench. Dan wants to say something, anything, but there is nothing to say. All this time together, so many things they have experienced. Words that he wanted to say then, they all disperse on his tongue, lost in the moment of now.

Phil drags the tips of his fingers over the back of Dan’s, lacing them together. The tips of his fingers cool, gently press into Dan’s palm.

Dan’s mind quiets. The back of Phil's hand has a dusting of small birthmarks, skin pale, somewhat rosy from the cold. His palm is a mixture of rough and soft, hot against the back of Dan's hand. It is all so simple, nothing needs saying.

“I lo—“ Dan stutters to a stop, Phil’s phone ringtone blaring.

“A table is open,” Phil stuffs his phone in his pocket, taking up his coffee, not separating their hands. “What were you going to say?”

Dan puts his arm through the loop of the bags, cheeks burning.

“Nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Phil is written for philsters on tumblr.com. It was inspired by her art http://philsters.tumblr.com/post/105957290239/i-seem-to-be-able-to-only-drawing-them-these-days . She also made art for Phil's birthday http://philsters.tumblr.com/post/109526013224/happy-birthday-amazingphil-aka-phil-lester-you
> 
> Go check her out!
> 
> This is my first phan-fic.


End file.
